Should the Federal Government Sell Electricity?

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1866 edition. Excerpt: ...him take his vengeance on you. Can you not be content? You led me into cruelty and error a thousand times under the masking of fair colours and of fearless aims; you now show me, in the one redemption of my life--the one purer, better, higher thing!--only an added guilt, a fresh dishonour. I lose all through you. Are you not content? The vivid passion, the agonised irony, died suddenly, as a flame drops to the ground; her head fell, her limbs sank wearily on the broken rockss a dull dead apathy returned on her, in which she lost all memory, even of his presence. He looked at her, hushed, awed, moved to something that was almost dread of his own work, intimidated by the suddenness and the completeness of his own victory; he waited, hesitating, and as one afraid, some moments; she gave no sign that she even remembered he was near; every second wasted might cost them both the loss of liberty, if not of life; but he lacked the boldness that could have pressed on her then the question of mere bodily danger, the mere physical perils from the cell and the rods of her persecutors. There was that in her attitude, as she sat bowed, motionless, with the loosened weight of her hair sweeping down into the salt pools of the beach, and an icy dullness of calm on the colourless immutability of her features, that subdued, and shamed, and had a nameless terror for him. Some sense of reluctant reverential fear was always on him for the woman whom, nevertheless, he had goaded and trepanned, and injured, and tortured through the length of many years. Some touch of love for her ever lingered in him. He paused a long while, at some distance from her, while the in-coming tide rolled nearer and nearer up over the shingle and the sand, till the surf washed over...